


The Promise

by agent85



Series: 52 Stories in 52 Weeks [9]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, FSKissPrompt, FSKissPromptCollection, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 22:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6168691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent85/pseuds/agent85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>FitzSimmons are terrified to find out that Will—Ward—IT followed them back to Earth. </p><p>And it wants Jemma at any cost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt: "Comforting kisses pressed to tear-stained cheeks between whispered words of reassurance and concern.."
> 
> This is also part of my [52 short stories in 52 weeks challenge](http://agent-85.tumblr.com/post/136244562327/52-short-stories-in-52-weeks). This week's prompt: a creepy story.

Fitz can only focus on his gasping breaths and the sound of scrambling feet as he follows Jemma down the corridor. He has to stay behind her, _has_ to. His heart is pounding, sweat is dripping into his eyes, but he follows her. He stays behind, because if it's going to get anyone, it's going to get him.

Maybe it's better this way.

"Fitz?"

He doesn't have the breath to tell her that he's still with her, so he has to speed up. Jemma is lightning, and he is thunder, but he has to catch her somehow. If she stops to look for him, they're done for.

"Jemma," he gasps, and she seems to straighten. He decides that it's going to be okay. Jemma remembers the way out. She has to remember the way out.

They zig zag through corridors and down a flight of stairs. Jemma takes them two, three at a time, and Fitz catches up by taking four. His knees are killing him, but this takes agility—it should give them a lead. Fitz almost lets himself smirk until he hears the _thump crash thump_ and he realizes that it's falling.

It's _falling_ down the stairs. 

It groans and grunts, but he knows it won't stop, he knows it. It was called Death once and it is just as relentless. It will come after them until there is no them to come after. Or it will do worse, and turn one or both of them into the thing that keeps coming.

He smells it before he sees it, rotted flesh that gives him flashbacks of the place this thing destroyed, the place that destroyed him. He makes a desperate attempt to leap out of range, but its stolen arms are long, and its fingers curl around his ankle. He screams, and she whips her hair around to see him.

"No," he pants, still kicking, still fighting. "Go. GO!"

For a second, he actually thinks she's going to do it, but then she lunges towards him and seizes his wrist, and the thing has them both with one tug. She's thrown forward into him, and there's a second where _she's on top of him_ before the true horror strikes him. He pushes her away.

"Jemma."

"No."

She's clinging to him, a man bound for death or undeath, a man who killed the man she loves, a man who was doomed from the start.

"Jemma," it says, and they both freeze. 

"Jemma," it repeats, and somehow it rises from a heap to tower over them. Her hand finds his.

"Jemma," it says again, cocking its head at her, "come back."

He feels her shuddering breath. "No."

"But you're all I have," it groans, offering its hand as a new wave of nausea overtakes Fitz. "You promised me . . ." It blinks with Ward's eyes. "Hope. Jemma, I need it."

He feels, rather than hears the silence that surrounds them. She's hesitating, and maybe she's drawn to him even now, even in the body of the man who betrayed them.

She gulps and scoots away. "I never promised you anything."

"Oh," it says, a growing a wistful grin that Ward could never make, "but you promised me everything. And you gave me more. I remember."

"NO!" she screams when it lunges for her, and Fitz almost doesn't react in time. He collides with it, shielding her.

"Jemma, go!"

"I can't!"

But she can! He can hold it off and Jemma can run, run, run out of here until she's out of breath and danger. She can go and she should.

But maybe . . .

"It's not him, Jemma," he pleads, "it's not."

She looks at him with red-rimmed eyes.

"I know."

"Then _GO_!"

Why does she stay? Why does she pick now, of all times, to stay? Fitz is only good at saving her and she should let him do it one last time.

He opens his mouth to command her once again when there's an explosion of light. He shields his eyes, but it's too late. He's blinded. All he can think is to reach for her, see if she's okay.

But she is, because it's Daisy and Lincoln's voices he hears, and they're pushing the demon back.

"Jemma!" it cries, and Fitz is afraid she'll run to it. But Daisy attacks it with vibrating air and Lincoln sends bolts of lightning, and the thing bolts forward, almost tripping over them as it stumbles down the corridor. Daisy and Lincoln hurry after it, and they are blanketed in silence.

And it's then that Fitz realizes he's crying.

"Fitz." 

It's a statement, a declaration, and her hands are on his cheeks, her fingers are in his hair, and she pulls him into her lap.

"I'm sorry, Jemma."

"Shhh."

They need to go, they need to get as far away from here as possible. He pulls himself up, but her hands don't leave him. He's paralyzed.

"I killed him, I brought it back, I . . ."

He's sobbing now, because of Jemma and Will and how he betrayed them both. He sobs because of his short-circuited brain and his fumbling hands. He sobs because he can't run anymore, because he's lost everything and he keeps losing.

"Shhh," she soothes, and his face is still in her hands. She presses her lips to one cheek, then the other, kissing his tears away. He doesn't deserve it, he can never deserve it, but he basks in it and hates himself.

"Jemma, I—"

"Shhh."

Her lips travel from his cheeks, to his chin, to the tip of his nose, and when she pulls back, she rubs his new tears away with her thumbs.

"Fitz."

And how terrible is he, because she must be hurting, too. Why then, is there such surety in her eyes? How can she look at him like it's okay, and make him start to believe it?

But no, there are tears in her eyes, too.

"I didn't make him any promises," she says. "I didn't, I swear I didn't. He knew. He always knew." 

And when the tears come in earnest, he knows it's his turn. He takes her hands in his and kisses them, then her cheeks, then all over. He doesn't mean to, but he can't stop. His lips travel of their own accord, and someone set this trap for him, and he's falling, falling. But her hands slip out of his and capture his face again, and she pulls his lips to hers. Her kisses are better than any ointment or salve; they are the stuff life is made of. He felt that before, the first time, and that's why he had to turn away. He's lost the power to do it now.   

"I can't leave you, Fitz," she says, breaking the kiss. Her hands are on his chest and she's buried her head under his chin. "You can't ask me to. Please."

His heart clenches, because how can he do anything but obey? His arms are around her in a moment, and he drops kisses into her hair.

"I won't," he swears, and he is pierced by the truth of it. "I promise, Jemma."

And she doesn't say a word, only clutches on to him, and he realizes that this is her promise. This is what she wants them to be. He can't believe it, but somehow, he begins to. It's like liquid light is dripping into him, and he's glowing. She is in his arms, and she wants to be there. She will always be there.

And the tears fall down his cheeks again, but he holds her tighter, and when Daisy comes back for them, they are two hearts stitching themselves together, two souls stronger because they're entwined.

And this is the gift that only Jemma can give. This is hope.

They stand up, hand in hand, exhausted by the running and the crying, but with a strange sort of electricity. The promise of what's in store for them is as radiant as the sun outside, and while he basks in it, she kisses him again.

**Author's Note:**

> I regularly post sneak peeks and general ramblings about my writing on [my tumblr](http://agent-85.tumblr.com/tagged/Writings%20of%20Agent%2085).


End file.
